The Whole Story
by thesmellofconfusion
Summary: As an adult, this lovely children's cartoon can give off an air of being just slightly off-kilter. Here we delve into what really drives Ms. Frizzle to be so reckless with the lives of her students, and their growing loyalty for the teacher despite this.


**A/N: Okay, here it is, the introductory chapter to my interpretation of the "The Magic School Bus" series. I loved this show to death, but as an adult there seems to be just something a little bit off...**

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Chapter One: Hammerspace

Arnold knew that something out of the ordinary was occurring when he entered the strange classroom on his first day of school. To begin with, the teacher wasn't there. Teachers were always the first ones to class, ready to greet the new students and welcome them into a new routine. It was one of the rituals Arnold liked most.

Then there was the layout of the room. He'd seen used classrooms before, and the small messes never really bothered him any, but here there was almost no organization at all. Posters were hung haphazardly from the walls, detailing themes as different as musical notes to the periodic table, and a grinning skeleton hung in the middle of the room, wearing a large polkadot bow-tie and sunglasses. Plants at various points of development were situated roots-down into cups of water, leaves straining for the rays of sun making their way through the clutter of model beehives , mailboxes, even a hamster cage sporting a large model tooth on top.

He was regretting waking up on time.

Suddenly two other boys burst through the doors, fighting over a football. Carlos and Ralphie, two friends of Arnold's from last year. Or at least two people he knew. He was just calming down, settling into the idea of the first day of class routine when he caught sight of the skeleton at the edge of the room covering the side of its head with its hands. Hadn't it been holding its hands down by its side when he'd first come in?

Nah, couldn't be.

"Hey, Gimmie! Wha-?" Ralphie stopped fighting for the ball as he caught a look at the room. Arnold could see the amazement on his face. Somehow that made him even more uncomfortable.

"This place is awesome!" Exclaimed Carlos, running to inspect a life sized replica of a large intestine.

Before Carlos could make a joke about the intestine Dorothy Ann and Keisha walked in, discussing the books they'd read over the summer. Arnold's sense of unease began to dissipate as the room filled. Soon what looked to be the entire class was there.

He recognized all the other students, chatting amiably as they took up positions around the room, for lack of desks. All but one. The shy girl had entered the room without a sound, somehow looking even more out of place than Arnold felt himself. He decided to go talk to her. Another cautious person like himself was going to be welcome, he felt, in the year to come.

* * *

Ms. Frizzle listened from her closet as her new class entered the room. It excited her to hear them inspect the contents of her classroom. Each item had a history, and she knew it brought them joy to be the objects of curiosity.

Even more it brought her excitement to have a class again. Summers were the most boring of times. She never did seem to function quite as well if she weren't making a teachable moment out of every encounter.

She stuffed her suitcases full of clothes and various other necessities for her travels into her pocket, or rather, into hammerspace. At least that's how she thought of it now. What would someday be a videogame explanation for how large objects were hidden away by videogame characters was also a fitting interpretation for her own dimension-bending abilities.

Best she not expose the class to that right away, however. She'd arranged for only the most adaptable and intelligent students in the third grade to be sent to her class, those that would benefit from her teaching the most, but they would only handle so much in the beginning. She would have to see how far she could take them over time.

Taking a deep breath, she let the feeling of coming home wash over her. Grasping the handle of the closet door tightly she envisioned her students, the lovely children who would bring her excitement for another year, then shoved, turning the handle.

"Good morning class!" They heard for the first time.


End file.
